The Girl in the Dirty Shirt

My Eyes are Heavy

Saturday, December 23, 2006

I finally have internet in the computer hole again. I could cry.

I probably woke up on the wrong side of the floor this morning. I’m smeared all over with a certain weariness.

The last week was all about languor: slouched in restaurant booths and coffee shop couches with friends, poring over Philo readings on why having faith in God equates to the complete lack of prerequisites and Theo readings on how integral evangelization is an absolute prerequisite for all in the Kingdom of God. After I got rid of my long tests, I started spending my Christmas break schlepping through the malls along with everyone else in the city. Bought a few gifts. Watched Inang Yaya because Fr. Nick told us to (it’s not bad—the yaya-amo disparity was portrayed pretty well—although my snarfing down 2+ doughnuts while watching it nagged at me more afterwardsI’mfatI’mfatI’mfat). Braved a migraine and met up with Teddy for some screenplay mind-wracking.

Last night was exceptionally hollow because of my visit to the House of Decadence. The Christmas party has always been a big thing among ViCe for the past few years, but this year’s, to be perfectly honest, was tedious. Barely anyone was there, and although it was good to see the few who came, the lack of people didn’t result in much. The thing bombed, basically, and no amount of weed-laced spaghetti could save it. And it was strange. I left Matimtiman early to go to the Caracoa launch, and the moment the cab swerved into Katipunan, I felt considerably different. Not better, this high school thing still had the ability to get me all lethargic the rest of the night, but there was a striking change. It saddens me that my ties with high school have become this murk I have to slog through.

Fortunately, all that languor was alleviated by the octopus.

posted by marguerite @ 11:19 AM